In The Shadows
by otherhawk
Summary: Not everyone can be brilliant. Not everyone is prepared to settle for second best.


**Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with O11**

**A/N: Because the finale of a certain TV program upset me, alright? This is just reaction.**

**A/N2: Short. Dark. That's about it.  
**

* * *

Nothing can describe the smell of burning flesh. Burning bone. Nothing can get rid of it. It clings to the skin. Caressing. Tainting.

He's stepped out of the shadows - he's in the sunshine now - and yet the fire is still burning behind his eyes and in the back of his throat he can still taste the smell of death.

* * *

It's early when Linus gets home; the sun rose a while back and the gum is tasteless in his mouth. He makes himself a sandwich and watches the firemen on the news struggling to deal with the flames consuming the house in the woods. The bread tastes of smoke and burnt meat and he chews slowly as he watches the paramedics carrying out the two stretchers.

The stretchers are covered.

No survivors.

He doesn't feel anything. Somehow, he's surprised.

* * *

All the way through school, Linus' best friend was Paul Francis. Paul was a genius. An athlete. The golden boy. Always a few inches taller, always a little further ahead. The girls flocked round him, the guys all wanted to be his friend. Even Mom and Dad loved him. Paul could do no wrong. He was a man among boys, and everyone else just faded into the shadows.

On Paul's eighteenth birthday the principal found six ounces of heroin in his locker and two more hidden inside his shirt. He insisted he was innocent. No one believed him. Hell, even his best friend testified against him.

Paul went to jail. Intent to supply. Eighteen years old and locked up with other drug dealers.

Wasn't so golden after that.

* * *

It's three days before the bodies are identified. Dad tells him the news. Choking back tears, he promises Linus that they're going to get the sons of bitches who did this. He even manages to strong-arm his way into heading the investigation.

Linus meets with the others. Fortunately it isn't so hard to find tears when everyone else is crying.

A bright light has gone out of the world.

There are fewer shadows.

Sometimes he's afraid his friends will smell the smoke.

* * *

The very first time Linus met Danny Ocean he told a lie. He said that Dad didn't want Linus trading on his name. But it had nothing to do with Dad. It was all Linus. He never wanted to be known as Bobby Caldwell's kid. All he ever wanted was to be recognised.

The very first thing Reuben ever said to him was "You're Bobby Caldwell's kid." And he was used to that. He told himself that the Benedict job was his chance for something more. A chance to make Dad proud.

Five years later and when people meet him they don't ask if he's Bobby Caldwell's kid anymore. They ask if he's the kid who works with Danny Ocean and Rusty Ryan. They ask if Danny and Rusty are really everything that everyone says. Linus always tells the truth. Yes. They really are.

He will always be dependable. Reliable. Hard-working. Always be a valued team player. And the thought of working with him will never make anyone glow with pleasure and excitement. Never make anyone light up with that magical inner joy.

Linus remembers watching his Dad smile with pride and affection as Danny talks and Rusty interrupts and they sketch out the impossible.

When there's magic in the world, how can anyone dependable and reliable and hard-working get to stand in the spotlight?

* * *

They tell stories, naturally. They always tell stories. Linus listens. He always does.

He listens to Reuben and Saul. And Dad. And he can hear the pride in their voices, the amusement, the affection, the love.

There's grief now, of course. Overwhelming and unstoppable. Loss drowns out everything else.

He remembers last month. Dad and Reuben, swapping stories. He'd been there and they might as well have forgotten him. Telling DannyandRusty stories. Saying there'd never be anyone else like them. No one else would ever be that brilliant. No one else could ever be that dazzling. No one else should ever even _try. _

Light that bright leaves a lot of shadows.

Linus is so tired of the shadows. It's cold and nothing grows here.

* * *

When they come for him, he's in the bar at the Standard. Quiet drinks and quieter stories. They cuff his hands behind his back and read him his rights.

Dad runs in and there's blood pouring from his lip. It takes four of the cops to hold him back and he's screaming Linus' name.

Linus remembers the grief and he remembers the stories and he wonders which of his family Dad is really mourning for.

He finds it difficult to face the disbelief and the horror, but in the end he finds the need to catch Saul's eye at least. "I made it quick," he promises. "They didn't suffer."

* * *

He makes it quick.

They're surprisingly easy to con, all things considered. They trust him, of course. That makes a difference. He spins a tale about a diamond necklace, just there for the taking, if they can get past the insane and impossible protections of course, and they're there.

The house in the woods is the perfect place. There's no one to overhear. They get past the security set-up he put in place without any difficulty, of course. Of course. They're _brilliant, _after all. Golden. Unstoppable.

When they grin and joke and laugh he smiles back at them. Let them think that he feels included. Let them think that he feels loved.

He lets them walk down the stairs first. And he waits until they reach the landing before he eases the gun out of the shoulder holster.

The first bullet hits Rusty in the back and kills him instantly. Linus is ready to look Danny in the eyes, expecting the disbelief, the demands for explanations, but Danny never looks at him. Instead he drops to his knees beside Rusty's body, his hand on Rusty's cheek. He doesn't make a sound. And he doesn't even _look _at Linus.

Linus doesn't know if he expected more or less, but somehow it would be so much easier if Danny would _see _him. If Danny would show respect, fear, even. Admit that there'd been a competition. Admit that Linus had won. But Danny doesn't look up and he strokes Rusty's cheek and it's like Linus doesn't _matter. _

The second bullet hits the wall. The third passes through Danny's skull. He slumps forwards peacefully across Rusty's body.

(_He didn't suffer. Linus will promise Saul that and it will be a lie.)_

The fire is easily set and he drives home, happy to enjoy the sunlight.

* * *

In the interrogation room they tell him he's been stupid.

He has been.

He can almost hear Danny's voice telling him that if he loses focus for one _second _everyone gets hurt.

There was a gas station a couple of miles from the house in the woods. He stopped to buy gum. The kid behind the counter was more observant than he had any right to be. He remembered. And he told the cops. And someone besides Dad put two and two together.

* * *

It's five years later and five to midnight. No more appeals. No more reprieves. No more forgiveness.

They clear away the plates. He hasn't eaten much. The finest of malts, the sweetest of desserts and at the end he has no appetite.

"I wanted you to be proud of me," he tells Dad quietly.

Dad squeezes Linus' hand tightly. "I was _always_ proud of you," he says.

One minute past midnight and the smell of smoke and death has finally brought tears to his eyes.


End file.
